


Possession

by backwardheads



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:02:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29505222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backwardheads/pseuds/backwardheads
Summary: "I take care of my boy." Bruce dragged the boy out of the bathroom and dressed him into the suit Alfred had prepared, but left him with no underwear, "You take care of Daddy's cum at the party, too, okay? Don't embarrass Daddy."Tim, of course, didn't.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Bruce Wayne
Kudos: 40





	Possession

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [【BruTim】Possession](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29431857) by [backwardheads](https://archiveofourown.org/users/backwardheads/pseuds/backwardheads). 



> okay I just use machine to translate my original work into English so there will be plenty of grammar mistakes, sorry about that

"Tim."

He always considered the boy as a young bird in need of care, but that didn't stop him from dragging the boy out of the party and shoved him into a random guest room. Bruce ripped open the Tim's shirt, pinned the pleading boy to the sheets, ripped off the pair of released suit pants, slapped the other boy's small, pantyless, bruise-marked ass. He pumped his fingers up the boy's cum-covered whole. 

Wayne roughly stirred up what he'd shot in the hole hours ago, smearing cum and lubrication all over the boy's finger-marked and bruised thighs.

"You let him touch you." Bruce's voice remained soft, but his hand unmistakably picked up Tim's head and neck and turned the other man around to press him into his crotch. 

The boy's nose hit his hard cock. Tim tried to struggle back, but after Bruce tightened his fingers around his throat, he went back to begging to suck the skin on Wayne's thighs to please the older man. Bruce slapped him again, then held his cock and without hesitation shoved it whole into Tim's mouth as the boy let out a muffled whimper.

"Tim, I'm disappointed in you."

Timothy Drake is tried of escaping from Bruce Wayne but he was still making small, almost pathetic struggles: like refusing to use Bruce's bathroom to clean up after an afternoon of being fucked, sneaking back into his own bathroom while his guardian went to the kitchen to drink water. But Bruce soon catches Tim in the bathroom, and as punishment, he deprives the promised cleanup opportunity to his partner by continuing to pin Tim to the bathroom tiles and slapping the boy's ass more aggressively with his hips, fucking Tim until he screams. "I take care of my boys." He dragged the boy out of the bathroom and slipped him into the suit Alfred had prepared, leaving him with no underwear, "You take care of Daddy's cum at the party, too, okay? Don't embarrass Daddy." Bruce shot another load on the boy's face, running his thumb across his lower lip before kissing him and pressing the soft flesh menacingly.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good boy." He murmured, deliberately smearing the boy's face with his thumb and wiping some cum into the other man's mouth, smiling with satisfaction as the boy diligently licked them off, "If you keep being good like that, maybe Daddy will allow you to suck cock in the office tomorrow."

Bruce stared at Tim as he wandered around the party, always hovering over his baby, not taking his eyes off him for a moment. He listened as people took his baby's fucked-up red cheeks as a sign of health and praised them incessantly, listened to people talk about the hair, the eyes, the lips that had borne his cum, and Bruce felt proud: he had shaped Tim, he had shaped Timothy Drake Wayne, he had watered his child in a way that no one else could, and produced a beautiful flower that amazed everyone. Tim could conquer the world, could bring everyone to his feet, but Tim would always be Bruce Wayne's property, Bruce Wayne's bitch.

That is, until he saw a man touch his baby's ass.

Bruce didn't stop it right away, he covered his twisted mouth with a glass of champagne. He watched as Tim was startled, woke up, then ducked, his face suppressing his familiar panic - a panic Bruce loved, it made the boy look so helpless and needy, look so weak and deserving of possession. Bruce had to admit he loved watching Tim struggle under his hands, his needless, painless resistance - because he knew all that resistance was just frolic to make their lovemaking more thrilling, all that resistance had and could only end with his cock shoved in his adopted son's flesh, in 

Tim saw him and saw his grim smile. The boy shuddered, like a rapidly fading bud, and the false light in his eyes quickly dimmed. Timothy whispered something at the man who was molesting him, trying to politely move away from the other man or away from Bruce, but the other man reached his hand out even further, and Bruce got hard, knowing that Tim hadn't caught the cum and the man had touched him wet.

In a way, Bruce didn't blame him, he had trained Tim to be such a good bitch that he would welcome every pair of hands that touched him, would leer wildly at every touch; he would spread his legs wide for any man and do anything to get a cock - Bruce was glad he had raised a bitch. But he also blamed himself for not training Tim well enough; Timothy Drake Wayne could only spread his legs for Wayne or the Waynes, and only one Wayne could decide whether he cried or didn't cry, got hard or didn't get hard, and cummed or didn't cum.

So he decided to step up his training of Timothy Drake Wayne.

"Daddy's upset, Tim, you're supposed to be a good boy." Bruce pressed the boy's head firmly against his crotch and rubbed his balls against the boy's chin until the boy struggled up from lack of oxygen. Bruce roughly withdrew his cock from Tim's mouth and flung him around at the boy's face. "But you're proving that you're just a bad bitch, a bitch who didn't manage daddy's cum. Tim, look, you've dribbled daddy's cum all over your pants and let someone else touch it."

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Tim's face was covered in sweat, cum, and tears as he sobbed and blinked hard, trying to keep the cum out of his eyes.

"You're grounded, son." Bruce's voice remained soft as he pressed Tim's face back into the sheets, the boy's rear pussy flinching in shock at his rough movements, and the creamy white with other fuzzy, clear, sticky fluids squeezing out of his pink hole and staining his split pants everywhere. Bruce shoved his finger in, but the excess liquid still ran down the slit, and Wayne stirred his lower finger as the boy squirmed with the sound of sticky water squirming mudily under him with a broken scream.

"Tim, look at you, always so small and tight no matter how many times Daddy thrusts you. Daddy should use your pussy to make juice for your brothers to drink."  
"Bruce ...... please ...... please."

Bruce slapped him furiously and Tim sobbed and tried to twist his head around to kiss him and beg his forgiveness, but Bruce had already thrust into him, the glans hitting Tim's prostate in one swift motion, the solid length pinning the boy tightly to the bed, "Bitch, still trying to escape. You know what to call me, that's all you can call me."

"Yes ...... Daddy."

Bruce rolled him over so Tim was sitting on his cock, and he gave Tim a haphazard jerk with his hand as Tim took it upon himself to ride up on his cock, banging it around erratically. His tiny arms rested helplessly on either side of his body, his tear-stained and sweaty face moving up and down in Bruce's field of vision, his sex-covered and scarred body flushed adorably, a squeal and a sob escaping from his small, cum-slicked mouth. Bruce almost lovingly pinched his fingers across the head of Tim's cock while maliciously jerking his crotch up in a jerking motion, causing Tim to almost stumble backwards, but Bruce pulled him out just in time. The boy ejaculated a thin stream of mucus and nearly choked on his own sobs. From this angle he could see Tim's belly protruding from the cum-filled and his freshly inserted cock, and Bruce engrossedly twirled his hand around the erect-looking nipples, playing with them like toys.

"Father, it's about to be your turn to take the stage." Damian's cold voice rang over the headset.

"Coming right up." Bruce slowly pulled his cock out of Tim's ass, letting the veins on his penis rub over every sensitive part of the boy's canal in relation to the semen, watching the boy squirm with pleasure, instinctively contracting his rear pussy in an attempt to leave his cock behind, "Damian, come to the guest room in the east corner of the second floor, I need you to discipline your brother properly."


End file.
